


Contour

by Lisa_Telramor



Category: D.N. Angel
Genre: Crushes, Friendship/Love, Introspection, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:22:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23702275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lisa_Telramor/pseuds/Lisa_Telramor
Summary: Daisuke sketches Satoshi on a picnic
Relationships: Hiwatari Satoshi/Niwa Daisuke
Comments: 5
Kudos: 32





	Contour

**Author's Note:**

> I took some prompts to celebrate 10 years in fandom, and this one is for peachsunset on Tumblr <3

It’s a bright summer day and Daisuke is spending it with Hiwatari Satoshi. For once there’s no tension in the air, no heist or rogue artwork hanging between them. It’s just a sunny day in the park with light filtering through green leaves and a picnic that Towa shoved into Daisuke’s hands when he said he was meeting up with a friend.

Satoshi looks relaxed and, well, Daisuke can count on one hand the number of times he’s seen him smile for real, but Satoshi isn’t unhappy right now. He might even be content which is a lot for him.

It has Daisuke itching for a pencil in his hand to capture that expression.

This isn’t the first time Daisuke’s felt it. He felt it the first time Satoshi smiled at him for real, felt it when he saw him asleep and the way the light had made him look ethereal. Even in the horrifying moments with Krad taking over, some subconscious part of him had caught Satoshi’s image and branded it into his mind, stark essays of emotions in split second memories.

Satoshi tips his head back, eyes closed, sun through the leaves dappling his profile with shadow and Daisuke _aches_ with the need to create. With the need to capture Satoshi existing in peace because it’s proof that it’s possible and maybe even hope that Satoshi can have this sort of moment more.

It takes five whole minutes of sitting in companionable silence before Daisuke breaks. “Could I… draw you?”

Satoshi opens an eye. “Why?”

“I want to,” Daisuke says. “You’d make a good subject.”

Satoshi scoffs, but he hasn’t said no yet. “You’re never quite what I expect,” he says cryptically.

“Right now, the lighting is good,” Daisuke says, justifying, “and it’s a nice scene and you’re…”

“I’m?” Satoshi says, the edge of a smile on his lips like he can read Daisuke’s train of though and finds him amusing.

Daisuke looks away. “Is it okay?”

Satoshi hums. He isn’t quite as relaxed as a moment ago, but he still hasn’t said no and hasn’t walked away. “Do what you want.”

Thank goodness he carries a sketchbook around. Daisuke flips to a clean page and lets himself fall into the rhythm of sketching.

It’s not the first time he’s drawn a person in front of him. But usually it’s either a volunteer or doodles in the margin of his notes of Riku or Risa or Dark. It’s different to have someone he knows holding still for him so he can capture their image. Intimate. Daisuke maps the gentle curve of Satoshi’s face. The way his fine hair is in a bit of disarray from wind and the pale lines of his eyelashes against his cheek behind his glasses.

Satoshi is beautiful, and the whole world knows it, but the Satoshi here and now is something only Daisuke will get to see and keep. Well, and Dark, except Dark is sleeping, quiet at the back of Daisuke’s mind as he gives himself over to the part of himself that needs to create.

They’ve never talked about it in detail. With the kind of art Satoshi is capable of, he probably gets the same urge, but Daisuke’s never seen Satoshi even sketch a doodle in his notes. Daisuke has seen dozens of Hikari artworks before, but he still hasn’t the slightest idea what kind of artwork Satoshi would create.

Daisuke starts in on Satoshi’s body, adding place markers for folds of clothing and where the light is hitting versus shadow. Satoshi’s too thin, but it’s thin in a way that society praises and fails to realize is unhealthy, the kind of thin models have even if Satoshi’s only fifteen. It makes him look fragile and ephemeral but it also makes Daisuke worry.

They’re friends. It’s normal to worry if a friend is eating enough. There’s enough left over from the picnic that Daisuke can send it back with Satoshi and know he’ll have something healthy and filling for at least one meal.

Daisuke’s hands slow over details. The angle of Satoshi’s hand on the grass, the other in his lap. The overhead leaves and tree. The bento box and its double layers of food Towa worked so hard over.

Satoshi’s eyes open and he huffs a laugh.

“What?”

“You make interesting faces when you concentrate.”

Daisuke flushes. “That’s… I’m not trying to make faces at you.”

“Calm down, plenty of artists do it. Can I move?”

“Ah.” Daisuke looks down at his drawing, a more detailed sketch than he usually does. The details are vague in most places, sweeping lines and quick hatched shadow, but Satoshi’s face is captured in detail. “You can move,” he says.

Satoshi stretches. It’s not fair that Daisuke can see how his shoulders are getting broader and the peek of skin where his shirt rode up shows that Satoshi, for all that he’s bad at taking care of himself, at least takes some time to exercise.

This is usually the kind of moment where Dark pops up and does the mental equivalent of banishing the thought and high energy distraction.

Dark doesn’t pop up.

“May I see or do you not want to share it before you’re finished?” Satoshi asks with a nod toward the sketchbook.

There’s part of him that wants to slam the page shut because there’s surely something in the drawing that would tip Satoshi off to those times when Daisuke has his thoughts lean toward more than friendly things. But Satoshi rarely asks for anything, even simple things, so Daisuke holds it out.

“It’s not much,” he mumbles as Satoshi looks it over. “You could draw better.” With enough time Daisuke could get the lighting better, could make all of Satoshi feel alive on the page, not just capturing a sliver of the moment in his face and posture. But to get it right is more time and skill than Daisuke currently has.

Satoshi traces a finger along his sketched face. “I could draw better,” he agrees, “but all that means is that I have the basics and technique to catch what I want on a page.” He hands the drawing back. “That doesn’t mean your drawing isn’t good. The only one who could draw it is you.”

Daisuke’s heard about Satoshi’s ability to mimic styles and has the feeling that Satoshi could copy Daisuke’s drawing in its entirety with every flaw to perfection, but he appreciates the consideration.

“Your drawing’s too flattering,” Satoshi adds drily.

“…But…” Daisuke looks from the drawing to Satoshi. Perhaps a little flair was used in making Satoshi’s hair look extra fine, or too much attention to the arc of his neck. But it was pretty close to Satoshi in truth. Satoshi really is that pretty.

He wonders if Satoshi would react at all if he said that. Daisuke feels a twinge of guilt for playing the scenario out in his mind. A blush on Satoshi’s face, or a cold dismissive scoff. Daisuke isn’t sure which Satoshi he’d get, the one who is his friend or the one who desperately pretends he isn’t.

“Do you ever draw, Satoshi? For fun?” Daisuke asks. He pushes down the thoughts, the doubts.

Satoshi looks at Daisue’s sketchbook, something between longing and hatred in his eyes. “No”

“Oh. I guess you wouldn’t…” Not with how much Satoshi seems to hate being a Hikari.

“You should though,” Satoshi says. “Keep drawing. One day you could make something to rival a Hikari work."

For some that could be a goal. Create art with enough emotion that it is alive. For Daisuke who has seen the consequences of art created and forgotten or broken, lives gifted and harmed by their creators, that isn’t a goal he’ll ever seek. “This is enough,” Daisuke says, hand spread over his sketchbook. “I want to be enough to catch moments like this.”

Satoshi smiles one of his rare smiles. “You already are.”


End file.
